


Someone You'd admire

by EdilMayHampsen



Category: The Strange Case of Starship Iris (Podcast)
Genre: Mostly Fluff, Multi, Sana is a librarian this means a lot to me, Teacher AU, plot happens eventually, they're buddies :]
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdilMayHampsen/pseuds/EdilMayHampsen
Summary: An AU where the crew doesn't meet until they retire from space-rebellions and become teachers on New Thasia.
Relationships: Arkady Patel & Sana Tripathi, Brian Jeeter/Krejjh, Ignatius Campbell/Sana Tripathi, RJ McCabe & Agent Park, Violet Liu/Arkady Patel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Sana Tripathi

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by The Fleet Foxes  
> Thank you to everyone in this TSCOSI unofficial discord for being so nice!  
> I think this is my first published fic for tscosi? I'm too lazy to check.

Every day is a long day for Sana, wake up, get ready, open up the school, open up the library, organize, check her calendar, organize her calendar, greet the early risers, get to tutoring, more of a whole day in the role of a school librarian, go home, get ready, go to sleep, rinse, repeat. Though today she's put the 'sleep' before 'the go home' and that has her in a bit of a pickle.

She wakes up bleary. Her head hurts from where it hit the desk, but she's warm. Warmer than she should be with the biting air conditioning at the library that she sends weekly work orders for. Still no reply, still no room in the budget.

"You're up, Tripathi. I was starting to wonder if I should lock the doors or leave you to the wolves," Campbell says.

That wakes her. Sana sits up quickly, running a hard through her hair. She isn't alone in the library, Campbell lingers next to her desk and she can hear a few kiddos chittering in the stacks. The clock says it's only four.

She curses. "How long?"

"I can't be sure. Rita came to get me as soon as she saw you knocked out."

"She could have waken me up herself."

"You drink more cups of coffee a day than you get hours of sleep a night. Cut her some slack."

"And speaking of coffee?" Sana asks. Campbell chuckles fondly and hands her the steaming cup he'd brought from the staff lounge. Today he hands it over without his usual not-so-subtle speech about the importance of rest, and she's glad for it, but the worried crinkle around his eye doesn't escape her noticing.

"How's The Afterschool Club?" she asks. 'The Afterschool Club' doesn't mean much of anything, nothing official, at least. It's just a gaggle of kids Campbell and Sana bounce between the library and the theatre while they wait for late-working parents or for it to get cool enough outside to walk home. The afternoon sun in New Thasia is brutal. Neither of them get overtime to stay and supervise, but someone has to do it. Long, long days.

Campbell sips his own cup of coffee, "They're good. I left the seniors in charge for a while, which should be fine as long as Pete doesn't lose that tooth with--"

"With Alesandra's dental phobia, yeah," Sana sighs, palming her forehead. "How lucky are you feeling on that front?"

"Not very."

"You should go, then," Sana says, "They need you there."

"I should, yes. And that they do," Campbell responds. He only moves to throw a leg over Sana's desk, getting comfortable.

She laughs, "You're sitting on my schedule."

"Call it an intervention."

"You're insufferable," She tells him.

"And yet you suffer me."

They drink in silence for a long while, staring at the large mural painted on the library's walls. The one behind her desk shows a view of space from a ship, but the metal windows framing the scene of stars fades into blue skies and green pastures, then into a sunset, and a city. She lets the art club add to it every year. It's only been three years now, but the amount of detail never ceases to amaze her. She likes knowing that the kiddos have left their mark somewhere. That they graduate with the full knowledge they have somewhere to that speaks of their actions, their creativity, and will stay and continue to reflect them for as long as Tripathi is a librarian. Maybe longer.

Sana finishes her cup and sighs. They speak at the same time, "You should go--"

"The kids need you, Campbell. And as much as I love them I can't stand to see another improv set, you promised me yesterday was the last one this month."

"And I don't break my promises. I didn't mean go to the theatre, I meant go home. You're exhausted. Call in sick tomorrow, I'll even cover for you myself."

"I couldn't ask you to do that. The club--"

"The club will be fine. There's no urgency in children doing improv, but there is in you running yourself ragged. You worry me sometimes, Tripathi."

There goes her hope for no speech.

He continues, "See it this way: You have enough scripts in here that I could make a lesson out of it. Let the younger ones see all the range theatre has to offer, have the older kids adapt a play from a novella, they'd love it."

"And I'd get behind on returns, and the shelves would fall into disarray and I swear I have three meetings over this damn funding shortage."

"Meetings can be postponed."

"And what about Pete? You know how important it is for him to look good, are you sure you can puff up his ego and manage Alessandra at the same time?"

"Tripathi," He says.

"And the bookfair is five months away, you know how much of an ordeal that is. If i don't get funding settled before hand, Campbell, imaging our literacy rates."

"Tripathi!" He scolds, putting his hand on hers. Campbell looks her in the eyes for a long moment before clearing his throat and returning his hand to his cup, "Those are all small fires. And you'll have to excuse me if I’m overstepping here, but you're burning yourself out. Tripathi, you're asleep at your desk with the dusty prop blankets, come on."

Sana's hand shoots to her shoulder, where she sees the familiar grandma-patterned duvet that's covered many-a middle schooler acting out sick and bedridden characters. She scowls. "I can handle it."

"Sure you can, but you shouldn't have to." His voice takes on a tone of careful concern that Sana hates. It makes the guilt bubble up in her stomach and fester there until she gives in. She tries. She really, really tries to match his level stare until Campbell inevitably raises his hands to pacify the tension, but her eyelids are heavy with sleep. She doesn't stand a chance.

"Yeah, all right," She says, and the grin that splits Campbell's face is too infectious for her to feel bitter, "But I'm leaving out the theatre entrance, so don't start thinking your done with me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," He says, standing to pull her to her feet. Campbell does the honors of telling the young ones the library is closing early while Sana grabs her keys. She eye's her binder enviously, but she knows Campbell will catch her if she tries to take the work home, and leaves it be.

They start down the hallways side-by-side. Taking their time in each other's company and pointing out which of the works pinned to the cork boards outside classrooms were done by some of their kids. They keep their voices low as they talk about which classes have been giving them trouble and which have reminded them why they do that work— schools have many, many ears, and you're never as alone as you think you are— best not to risk being overheard. They get to the Atrium, the big, open room by the main doors that branches off into grade-level hallways before Campbell speaks up again, thrusting his hands in his pockets and pulling his shoulders back in the way he does when he's putting his foot down. A rare pose for a theatre teacher, but one Sana's familiar with. She raises an eyebrow.

"I’m sorry I mislead you, but you know I can't let you drive home like that in good conscience," He says.

Sana groans, "Ignatius—"

"Don't 'Ignatius' me, Tripathi, I can see through your wiles," and he bumps her with his hip to pretend he was joking. "Go see Patel, she'll be wrapping up anyway. You're too tired to risk it."

"You drive kids home on long nights all the time," She protests, "I'm fine."

"Unlike you my caffeine tolerance isn't inhumany high. I get a least eight hours a night--"

She gives him a look.

"Okay, seven hours, most days. I don't know how much midnight oil you've been burning, Tripathi, but it's not a good replacement for gasoline. Go see your friend."

"But--"

"I'm leaving now, so you can't argue with me," Campbell says, grinning as he walks backwards towards the theatre, and then turning to jog away, "Try not to miss me too much."

"Trust me, I won't have to try," Sana lies, smiling to herself.

Campbell disappears with a holler of a greeting and the bang of the theatre doors. Sana huffs, drawing the musty blankets tighter as she tosses her cup towards a nearby trash can. She misses horribly, which only puts her in a worse mood.

The soccer ball that comes careening down the hallway, quickly followed by Tim, hooting and hollering, announces Arkady's presence before the woman herself can.

"The kiosk is the goal!" Arkady calls, "Go, Tim, Go!"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Danny calls, booking it out the hallways and diving for the ball. Out of the two brothers, Danny's the youngest. Though he may be small, he's fast, and determined. Sana winces as he hits the ground, falling between the ball and the kiosk, but he doesn't look hurt. He takes the soccer ball to the stomach with a ka- _ thunk _ and a small 'ow' before he's up and running again. Tim complains loudly.

"Break any bones, Danny?" Arkady asks, finally appearing in the atrium. She's changed into her normal clothes, the slacks and sweater that almost make her look like a respectable educator.

Danny laughs and says his bones are too strong for that, Tim doesn't believe him.

"I thought the rules were no rough-housing in the hallways, Ms.Patel?" Sana says, waving.

Arkady grins and walks over. "By principal decree, that's true. But I don't see the principal and I don't see a snitch either." She stoops down for Sana's discarded coffee cup, throwing it in the trash. "You're out here early."

"Mr.Campbell took it upon himself to kick me out of my own library," Sana gripes.

Arkady's eyebrows shoot up, "So you got to second base?"

"Arkady Middle Name Patel!"

"Oh come on, if he can pull you away from your work that must mean things are getting intense. How long have I known you? And I still can't pull off that little trick— One sec. Timothy I can see that hand ball, don't think I won't make you run laps tomorrow!"

Sana briefly adopts the frown she's expected to put on when a kid's being scolded, but the way Tim drops the soccer ball and goes red, calling 'sorry miss!' makes them both chuckle.

"I know my own limits, this means nothing about me and Ignatius."

"Ignatius," Arkady observes, "You know, Sana, I didn't think you had it in you to lie through your teeth like that."

"There are plenty of things you don't know about me, like my love life."

"There you go lying again. Color me learn-ed, Tripathi, you're full of surprises."

Sana sighs, and starts after the boys towards the main doors. "I wish I didn't have to deal with all this drama."

"Hey, I'm not the one that chose the theatre teacher, of all things."

"He's nice!"

"We're all nice."

"Ms. Arkady Patel, are you jealous?" Sana teases, holding open the door for Tim to drag Danny through by the earlobe.

"Am not!" Arkadys says, stepping out, "And if I was it's only cause you haven't gone out for drinks with me in, like, a whole two weeks."

"I know, I'm sorry, I've been busy."

"Yeah, yeah," Arkady says, waving her off. Her tone is sympathetic. "But what has you gracing me with your presence on this fine afternoon? You're usually running around like a chicken with your head cut off. Is there hope for me to get those drinks in?"

"Maybe," Sana says,"I was actually gonna ask for a ride. I'm nodding off where I stand, but let me grab a powernap on your couch and I'm down if you are."

There's a lapse in the conversation as Arkady checks the Stoker brothers are getting in the right car, calling a greeting to the parents and telling Tim not to worry about those laps, she's changed her mind. Sana's already begun to sweat and pulls the blankets from her shoulders, folding them in front of her.

Arkady opens her mouth to continue, but stops to squint at the little black car that stalls in the drop off area for a long moment, before driving around to the parking lot. The person who steps out has a shock of red hair and pale skin all done up in a suit just on the wrong edge of overdressed.

"Do you know who that is?" Arkady asks, bringing her hand above her eyes to block out the sun.

"No," Sana says, "District, maybe?"

They both tense. There isn't really a district, not when New Thasia is so small. The few schools here answer directly to Boss Violet and Thasia. They've both worked with the resistance leaders before they were given leave to settle down on the freed world, and though they're good people, they're busy. Too busy to send a visitor unless they bear bad news. Sana grinds her teeth together. They can't take another budget cut, not if they wanna keep their books up to date  _ and _ the art programs open. That means Campbell...

Sana swallows.

The figure steps onto the large open area in front of the school, looking lost, before their eyes land on Sana and Arkady and they pick up speed. When their face comes close enough to be more than a blur, Sana sees freckles and a youthful nervousness to the set of their brow. Their eyes lock on Sana's and recognition flits over their face. They slow to a walk in an attempt to look professional. It doesn't really work.

"Are you Tripathi?" The person asks, "Sana Tripathi?"

Sana nods, surprised. Her confusion only doubles when the person offers her hand. Sana hands the blanket to Arkady and accepts a shake.

"My names RJ McCabe, they/them. I applied as assistant librarian? Park recommended me." They flash a white-toothed smile that reeks of IGR ECEs—Expected Courtesy Edicts— but that about tracks for someone Mr.Park would know. Sana stamps out the flare of suspicion that arises in her. It'd be hypocritical to judge, even her best friend was IGR at some point, and the school has a strict policy regarding rehabilitation, one that resonates with Sana on a moral level.

She grins before the person can look even more nervous. In the silence that's elapsed the tension in their face has grown to a snapping point.

"Nice to meet you, ah, title?"

"None, really. Or Teacher."

"Nice to meet you, McCabe." When Sana turns to Arkady, her friend is already frowning. She mouths 'sorry' and Arkady crosses her arms. "I know nothing's official yet but you seem like a great candidate

and we don't exactly have a labor surplus around here. Want me to show you around?"

"That'd be great. I was really hoping I could prepare myself for the new environment cause--Yeah." McCabe cuts themself off.

"I'll have to take a rain check, Arkady, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Arkady says, tucking the blanket under her arm, "There's always next time, and there will be a next time. You just take care of yourself."

Sana can't find it in her to lie and say she will, so she offers a closed-mouth smile and a thumbs up, "You too Arkady."

Maybe the new hire will make things better, but Sana doubts it. That's her life. Long, long,  _ long _ days.

She ushers McCabe through the doors.


	2. Violet Liu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet meets her coworkers

Violet Liu isn't sure about kids. She sort-of likes them, mostly. The way the younger ones waddle is cute, but the older ones awkwardly walk the line between childhood and adulthood, and Violet relates too deeply to feel like she deserves any authority. She  _ is,  _ however, sure she's grateful to have a place to be after the Iris crew decided to fake their own deaths without thinking to consult her beforehand. She clings to that gratitude on days like this, when she's had to face a classroom of fish-eyed stares two blocks in a row with no student interaction whatsoever, and then get to wallow in her anxiety over lunch break.

That one nice teacher, Mr.Campbell, (though it's weird to refer to him as a teacher when he's technically her coworker, which feels weird cause Violet never imagined herself as a teacher—) invited her to the staff lounge. He even offered to walk her there since they share a lunch period. The man's some kind of miracle worker. He read Violet's uncertainty for exactly what it was, a nice change from the Iris where the crew mostly assumed her stares were judgemental instead of generally confused about the social landscape. But as nice as Mr.Campbell seemed, Violet said no. She was adjusting to being outside the IGR's watch, but it still made her skin crawl to be around these people, as nice as they all seem. She feels bad about it, thinking of them as somehow other, but she feels bad about a lot of things, so she picks at her lunch in her empty, dark classroom and tries to distract herself.

There's a knock on her door.

Violet said she'd have lunch tutoring for the kids who need it, cause that's what all the cool teachers said in grad school, and she wants so badly to be cool, but she regrets not leaving herself time in the day to recharge her social battery. She sighs, stands, and opens the door.

What she expected was to see a student, probably Ms.Aurinko, who's grades have been slipping since she got that girlfriend of hers, but instead it's another teacher.

The woman is breathing hard, like she'd run down the hallway, and with her basketball shorts and baseball-style tee-shirt, Violet wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

"Hey," The woman says, "You're a biology teacher, right?"

"I am?"

"Great." She lets herself in, stepping past Violet, who isn't quite sure what to do. Violet returns to her desk while the woman goes to sit on one of the tables, catching her breath. Violet stares until the woman speaks again.

"So I just had a kiddo have an asthma attack," she starts.

"Oh," Violet says, "Oh."

"And I thought, well, Liu's a doctor."

"I'm not actually a doctor. Where are they? Are they here? Are they okay?"

The woman waves her off, "You're close enough to a doctor, and no. I ran them to the nurse before I came here. They should be fine. But like, I was wondering if you could tell me what's going on with that? The asthma, I mean. I get the gist of it but— Oh. I'm Arkady Patel, by the way. Nice to meet you." Arkady gives a two fingered salute. Violet salutes back, which makes Arkady grin like she just told a joke.

"I mean, plenty of animals get asthma," Violet says, slowly. Arkady leans forward from where she sits, offering her full attention. It's a nice change to speak to someone responsive, but she still feels watched. "I'm no doctor, but parts of the lungs can swell or get too mucusy and make it hard for someone to breath, you know? There are a ton of causes: Allergies, bad weather, exercise."

Arkady's eyebrows shoot up when she says exercise, and she starts to nod slowly.

"B-but it's mostly treatable? Severity can vary but as long as the subject gets their medicine they'll be fine. Is that what you, uhm, what you needed?"

"Yeah, thanks. So basically your lungs do this?" Arkady makes a circle with her pointer finger on thumb, before tightening it to make a smaller circle. Violet nods. "Okay, I get that. So what can I do to make class better for the kid?"

Violet shrugs, "I'm still not a doctor, you'd have to ask the kid and their parents, I think? It's real, uhm, real good of you to be concerned." Violet flashes a nervous smile.

"Right. I'll do that."

Violet glances to the door, but Ms.Patel doesn't seem keen on leaving. If anything, Arkady gets more comfortable, looking around the classroom at the plant anatomy posters Violet put up for this week's unit. Violet waits, but after a minute of silence she takes a very small sip from her thermos. Then a bigger sip. She dares a cracker.

"So how are you liking it here?"

Violet winces, gesturing to the food in her mouth as she rushes to chew, washing the cracker down with soup. "I'm liking it," She sputters.

"I dunno, cause I hardly ever see you around, not after you first got in. Campbell talks about you."

"Yeah?" Violet says. She wants to know what, exactly, he has to say, but she isn't keen asking.

"Yeah." Arkady finishes, giving her nothing. "Why don't you eat with the rest of us? Settlement schools aren't that big, we really hurt for the company without you. I mean, you don't have to answer that, we all have our reasons. Park's the same way—"

"Aren't you teaching a class right now?" Violet asks, "Like, if you just sent a kid to the nurse?"

Arkady shrugs, "They're out on the field. Krejjh is watching them."

"Mx.Krejjh the dwarnian."

"Just Krejjh, no title. The flight coach, yeah. Why'd you ask?" Arkady smiles shakily and stands, as if sensing she isn't welcome. She inches toward the door.

Damn it. Damn, damn it, this isn't the kind of impression she wants to have on her coworkers, prickly enough to kick them out of her classroom and sit alone.

"I was just wondering if you had time to walk me to the teachers lounge, actually." Violet says in a rush, "I didn't feel settled enough when Mr.Campbell offered and after that it felt like I was...too late, you know?" It's a lie, but a convincing one, because Arkady smiles and dusts her hands together.

"Yeah, of course I'll show you. Follow me. Need help carrying your lunch?"

"No, no." Violet says.

She packs up quickly, keenly aware of Arkady waiting on her, and they walk the halls side-by-side.

Arkady doesn't say anything. Violet grips her lunch bag tightly, wringing the handle, but after a minute of walking it becomes clear Arkady doesn't expect her to speak. Ms. Patel walks with her shoulders relaxed, hands in her pocket, as if they've done this a million times before. As if they're friends, and silence is comfortable.

Violet lets her hands fall to her side. She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. Arkady glances at her, and smiles. It feels good, to be with another person like this. It's a small thing but it feels good.

Arkady holds the door to the staff lounge open, and all that tension comes flooding right back to Violet like a dam broke.

"Ah, hello! You've emerged from your cocoon just as beautiful as I expected, Ms. Liu, how are you?" Campbell greets. He throws his arms wide, taking up a lot of space at the large table. Next to him are two other people, one of which Violet recognises and the librarian, who leans into Campbell's side when his arm falls around he shoulder, and the other she hasn't seen before. 

Campbell doesn't give her time to answer before he continues, "I apologize Violet, but you won't be the person of the hour, I'm afraid. That honor goes to McCabe here, our new hire."

Arkady leads her to a set of seats with a light hand on Violet's waist.

"Oh, congrats!" Violet says as she sits. Glad the attention isn't on her. 

McCabe beams, "I'm glad to be here."

"And good thing too," Campbell says, "Stars know the Tripathi could use the help."

The librarian bumps him with her shoulder. Beside Violet, Arkady makes a subtle gagging motion. Violet giggles.

"I was doing just fine on my own, but it is a relief to see you. Libraries are a community space. I felt like a hypocrite running the place myself." Tripathi says.

"I promise to do my best to help, ma'am, I took it upon myself to get familiar with the database you use and the programs you run. Mr. Campbell told me about the after school club but I didn't see it on the budget?"

Tripathi cringes, "Yup. That's one's out of pocket."

"We'll have to fix that," McCabe says. Violet's familiar with the school system. Well,  _ a _ school system, at least. Things may be different on Holneth but she doubts it's that easy. Still, McCabe's determination is infectious.

Arkady claims her turn in the conversation by sticking her arm out in the middle of the table. "Yeah, yeah, Sana we get it, you have you cool books and your amazing new hire and all that—" McCabe flushes. "But I raise you, today I found out Violet's a doctor."

"You're a doctor?" Tripathi asks.

Violet throws her hands up in the air, laughing despite herself, "How many times do I have to say, Arkady, I'm not a doctor!"

Tripathi raises her eyebrows, stage whispering to Campbell, "Arkady, she says. First name basis already?" She and Campbell turn to the table with matching looks of exaggerated scandal, hands in front of O-shaped mouths.

Violet feels her face heat, and sees Arkady's much the same.

"Watch it, Tripathi. We're not on Cresswin anymore, I could take you."

"Roll out the wrestling mats and you'll see how fast I can prove you wrong." Tripathi retorts, grinning.

Campbell opens his mouth to say something, but falls silent, turning to the door. Everyone's eyes follow his, the conversation puttering out.

The black-haired man in the doorway looks just as shocked to be seen as everyone else is to see him. He straightens his posture, and then his eyepatch.

"Park," Campbell says, losing his grandeur in favor of pleasantry, "It's good to see you outside the classroom."

"Likewise. I came to say congrats to Agent—to teacher McCabe. Sorry I'm late. Kids to tutor, and all."

"That's alright," McCabe says with a watery smile, "It really is good to see you."

Violet looks away. There's something between the two of them, something hurting, but it isn’t her business.

"Yes, um." Park clears his throat. "I should be going."

"Or you could stay," Tripathi offers, "Violet's pretty new, too. Come on, maybe if we sell this as staff bonding we can get Principal Gavins to pay overtime."

A flicker of a smirk reveals Park isn't as stoic as he seems. 

Arkady scoots over, and Campbell fumbles to grab Park a chair. The silence when everyone gets settled is a blissful one, as six smiling faces anticipate good company. McCabe stims with their hands shaking out in front of them.

Violet thinks she can do this, even if it isn't for the kids.


	3. Brian Jeeter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian tells violet a secret

It's a sunny day outside, and Brian's determined to make the most of it. He leaves his oxygen machine tucked under his desk—he's a few months from putting the thing away completely—and takes his Dwarnian I class out to the field. 

It's a large field. If there's one thing New Thasia doesn't lack, it's space, and so the school's recreation area has lots of it. He brings his kids to the soft, mossy patch of ground that just so happens to border flight training fields. If anyone asks, it's a coincidence that Brian puts himself there right when Krejjh is tutoring their smallest class of advanced students, who hardly need supervision.

It's also a coincidence today's lesson is Dwarnian love poetry. It engages the kids.

" _ Can the dirt measure the strange things that take root in it? _

_ No. Therefore I am more than dirt _

_ I am lively enough to measure this love, _

_ See that is is bountiful and accept it _

_ I am wizened through this _

_ And my love, like roots, holds me whole" _

Brian says the poem in Dwarnian, then English, then dwarnian again. He likes this one for Dwarnian I in particular, because it gets the younger teens to sit up straight and pay attention. The sense of rebellion appeals to them, even those who don't experience romance. It's the age they start seeing fault in their parents, rebels among rebels, and if ancient poetry only had one virtue, it would be the display of common emotions haunting sentient life across time and space. The knowledge you're not alone.

"All you have to do today is find the vocabulary words I showed you, dudes. Tell me if or how they're changed in context. I'm here if you need help. After that you're free to do whatever."

The class turn to their clipboards with a minimal amount of discouraged groaning, a good sign. 

Brian looks across the field to where Krejjh is preoccupied pretending they weren't watching his performance, and smiles.

He lays on the moss and looks up at the sky, breathing deeply. New Thasia sure beats Nuezo. Clean air, opeb skies, no bounty in his head. Not a half bad place to take refuge. 

"Mr.Jeeter?" Carlos calls, raising his hand. 

Brian indicates he's heard without moving from his reclined position.

"What's the Dwarnian word for dirt, again? I didn't get it in my notes."

"Gwekk." He answers.

" _ That's not a very nice name to call your students, Crewman _ Jeeter." 

Brian's looks over to Krejjh and they approach. Over their shoulder, their student's ind-flyer hovers in the sky before trying a wobbly loop-de-loop. The pilot nearly clips the ground but pulls up just in time. Brian bites his lip.

He takes Krejjh's hand when they offer it and lets them pull him to standing before he addresses the class. "Krejjh is correct, of course. In some contexts  _ gwekk _ can be an offensive word for humans. It's a little-known fact that gwekk as a term for humans was originally derived when dwarnians discovered the 178th golden record, which included many creationist myths and legends, including the myth of Prometheus, in which humans are fashioned from clay."

Brian sneaks a glance at Krejjh, and bristles with pride when they seem impressed. 

"You're very lucky," he tells the class, "not many dwarnian learners get to know native speakers. But if you see Krejjh around, feel free to say  _ hi, how are you? _ "

" _ I'm doing amazing, Crewman  _ Jeeter _.  _ Le o?"

" _ Better now that you're here." _

_ "Your students won't understand that one, will they?" _

" _ Let them not under—" _

Cecil ahems loudly and Jeeter turns back to the class.

"Yes, well you all have your assignments for today. Me and Krejjh have some catching up to do.  _ Maybe they could recommend some more love poetry for this unit?" _

" _ I know a few that would work. Though many are too advanced. Maybe some personal study would be best?" _

Brian flushes and rubs the back of his neck, "Yeah, uhm. Well, How are you feeling about the parent-teacher conference today?"

Krejjh shrugs all four shoulders, "I don't expect too many parents. I'm only a temp, remember?"

"Yeah, but wasn't there talk of keeping you? Flight instruction at the highschool level is really important."

Another shrug. "You know how funding is."

"Boy, do I," Brian says.

"I'll probably just help Tripathi keep everything on track. If there's one thing I can handle, it's traffic."

They keep up the chat for the rest of the block, everything from dwarnian soaps to new releases in the ind-flyer market, until Brian starts coughing and he excuses himself back to his classroom to get his oxygen machine. Krejjh offers to watch his kids until the bell rings.

"Thanks, bud."

"Anytime."

Brian runs his ID through the scanner by the door, and it lets him in. The air conditioning hits like lemonade to the thirsty, and Brian takes a deep breath of cool air, forgetting himself. He starts coughing again.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" Comes a worried voice. 

Brian recognizes the woman as Ms.Liu, the new girl. He tries to smile, goes into another coughing fit, and manages to show teeth.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just need to get my—" he gestures toward his nostrils as he shakes with another fit.

Violet's eyes go wide and she rushes to support Brian's weight. "Right. In your classroom? Or the nurses office? Want me to get it for you?"

"If you could, dude, that'd be—ugh—that'd be great."

Violet nods and they walk down the hall together, her face set in concern and determination. 

"I'm real sorry about this, I didn't know it was this bad today."

Violet shakes her head, "No need to apologize. The PSD count's been high lately. Arkady's kids are having trouble too."

"That's pollen…"

"Pollen, Spore and Debree."

"How do you know all that?"

Violet laughs to herself, "Some might say I'm a doctor—I'm not though. Not a doctor, but—"

"I get it."

"Is this your room?"

Brian nods and swipes the lock open. Sitting on a desk as soon as he get the chance while Violet searches for his machine. She hands it to Brian and he slips if on, breathing a sigh of relief.

"I won't tell you what to do, but you really should keep an eye on those PSD counts before you go out. That's what Arkady's doing and she's had less attacks."

"I'll do that. You know Ms.Patel?"

Violet blushes, and Brian can't keep the grin off his face. "Yeah, she—uhm. We have lunches together."

"It's a shame I don't have A block lunch with the rest of you, it gets kind of lonely. Krejjh keeps me company but, you know, I feel like a stranger. It's good to finally meet you."

"Likewise!"

They shake hands, and Brian points Violet to his desk chair. She sits and, seeing his bouncing leg, tosses him a fidget cube from the basket he keeps there. Brian catches it.

It's quiet for a minute as they let the adrenaline fade. 

"We should have a party," Violet says, "All of us. I mean you guys seem really nice and I don't have any friends on New Thasia unless you could the kids and —"

"That's a great idea, dude. Maybe not tonight cause of the—"

"The conference, yeah. But after that it'd be nice to unwind."

"We could have some of Sana's moonshine," Brian offers.

"Ms.Tripathi makes moonshine?"

"Ms.Tripathi does so much you've never heard about."

Violet grins, "care to spill?"

"Eh. You'll have ask her. But I am fairly in on the gossip. We've got a few office romances going on."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Like you and Arkady." Brian says, grinning back. 

Violets whole body goes tense. "Who told you that? Does she talk about me?"

"You told me, dude. You mentioned her, like, five times since I met you. What's the deal?"

Violet waves her hands vaguely before thrusting them out in front of her like she doesn't trust them with her secrets. She stares down at her outstretched fingers. "No comment."

"That's fair."

Another pause. Violet looks up and around the classroom, muttering the words on the walls.

"Teh-show-ay?" She says, changing the subject, "Te—"

" _ Theh-shlow-lay, _ " Brian corrects, with the careful over-pronuncation of a foriegn language teacher. "Don't tell that to me, though. It means I love you."

Instead of flushing, Violet cocks an eyebrow, "I hate to assume but...where is your class right now?"

"Krejjh offered to watch them for me."

"And if I'm reading this calendar right," Violet says, pointing to the image Brian has set as his screen saver, "The unit you're doing is love poetry? I thought I was self incriminating."

Brian shrugs, twisting the ring on his finger. "We're not technically supposed to tell people yet, HR's been slow with the paperwork."

Violet's eyes flicker down to the ring and back up. "Oh," she says, "Oh my goodness."

"Yup. Krejjh is my fiance, haha!" Brian does little jazz hands, "Gosh, it feels good to have that out there."

"Congrats," Violet says, "Can I see the ring?"

It's a simple band, engrave with dwarnian Violet won't understand, but it means a lot to him despite that.

_ "my love, like roots, holds me whole" _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the poem and I have a whole meta about the cultural justification of it. Which will probably post somewhere sometime.


End file.
